


Kitchen Countdown

by britishparty



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, i'm a sucker for these girls, yes it's porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-23 23:54:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9688739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/britishparty/pseuds/britishparty
Summary: Roxy comes home from work, but Jane's not quite finished cooking dinner yet. Whatever will Roxy eat?





	

Roxy steps through the door.

The house smells like cookies, like cake-- like  _ Jane, _ and Roxy smiles to herself.

“Honey, I’m home!” she calls, dropping her bag on the mat and kicking her not-too-high high heels off.

“Oh gosh!” Jane appears in the entryway to the kitchen, wearing the gorgeous beige and green apron that Roxy absolutely  _ adores _ on her. “I lost track of time, dinner’s not ready yet!”

Roxy just smiles. “Janey, I don’t give a damn about dinner, girl. Just stand there for a sec.”

Jane hovers nervously, not quite understanding. Roxy takes her all in; floury apron, fluffy hair almost tamed by a blue headband, glasses already starting to slide down her nose.

“Yep,” Roxy says with a smile. “My eyes are feasted, I can skip dinner.”

“Roxy!” Jane laughs, and Roxy can’t help but notice the pink on her cheeks. “Come on in, I just finished baking. Make sure you don’t get any flour on your nice clothes!”

She turns and disappears into the kitchen. It’s just as well Jane reminded her; Roxy had completely forgotten about the black jacket she’s wearing over her white dress shirt and pencil skirt.

A sprint upstairs to their bedroom, and then back down to drape herself across the kitchen table sees Roxy in a baggy pair of gray sweatpants and a loose pink crop-top.

Jane smiles when she catches sight of her on one of the kitchen stools.

“I’m glad you changed, Roxy,” she says, “you always look so uncomfortable in those work clothes.”

“You heal all my aches and pains, babe,” Roxy tells her. She means it. Sometimes her feet get sore from tight heels and her neck gets rubbed by stiff collars, but she can always call Jane and spend the rest of the day in a happy euphoria.

Jane laughs again. “Dinner will be ready in half an hour, but if you want to nibble on these, they’re free sport.” She slides a plate of cookies across the table.

“Janey.” Roxy sighs happily, reaching for one. “Light of my life, apple of my eye, enemy of my gorgeous figure, have I ever told you I love you?”

“Only when I bake for you,” Jane tells her, smiling gently.

Roxy fake-gasps, her mouth full of cookie crumbs. “No! My love for you far extends beyond mere confectionery treats, my fair lady.”

As if to prove her point, she slides off her stool, drops to one knee, and kisses the back of Jane’s hand.

“Last year, I’d have worried you were about to propose,” Jane tells her wryly, but pulls her up and pecks her on the lips.

“There is nothing more beautiful than flour on your clothes and cookies on the table,” Roxy tells her, pulling her closer. 

She’d proposed just over a year ago, when she’d gotten home from a tough day and dinner was on the table and Jane was wearing the same apron she is now. Jane had just started making lady’s fingers (Roxy loved those, there were so many jokes to be made) and Roxy just hadn’t been able to stop herself. She’d put the ring on top of a box of flour and waited for Jane to see it.

“I almost put my own engagement ring in batter, Roxy,” Jane reminds her sternly.

“Yeah,” Roxy says, and sighs happily. “You cried into it instead.”

“It wasn’t a celebration cake,” Jane says, sounding vaguely mournful. “I wanted to be the one to propose, remember.”

“Sorry, honey,” she says, kissing Jane’s cheek. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” Jane tells her.

Roxy smiles softly at that. She’s the first to admit: she is  _ head over heels _ for this girl, completely and utterly. She nuzzles into Jane’s neck, smiling against her skin and humming in contentment.

“Roxy,” Jane says, voice suddenly a little thin, “dangerous territory.”

Roxy’s smile widens.

“Is it now?” she asks.

She peppers kisses across Jane’s neck, down her throat, enjoying the way Jane holds herself stock-still. She’s like a livewire right now, all tense and built up.

Roxy wonders halfheartedly if Jane will let her have a go, here in her baking sanctuary. She leans up to kiss Jane, longer now, as she debates her chances.

As if reading her mind, Jane sighs. “Roxy, not in the kitchen.”

“But Janeeeeeeeyyyy,” Roxy whines. “Does it count if I’m eating?’

“What --” Jane starts, then cuts herself off as her face flushes red. “Roxy!” she says. She’s trying to sound scolding but she giggles halfway through, and it ruins the effect.

“No?” Roxy doesn’t even feel disappointed, still bubbling with happiness, so she gives Jane another peck and goes to move away.

“Yes,” Jane says quickly, pulling her close. “Please. Because I know you like to.”

“Yes!” Roxy crows with delight, her arms already snaking around Jane again. “You spoil me, Janey. I love you.”

Jane giggles, and Roxy joins in. They cut each other off in a kiss, and Roxy’s hands are already slipping the apron’s knot undone. Her hands go up to the neckline, and Jane laughs when Roxy curses in impatience.

“You are the only person in the universe who actually puts that thing around her neck, I swear,” Roxy mumbles.

“I didn’t put it on with the idea of it coming off like this,” Jane tells her, still smiling. She slips the collar from her neck and drapes it carefully over a stool. Gingerly, she places her glasses on the far end of the counter, where there's no fear of knocking them off.

Oh god, she’s wearing her blue button-up blouse. Roxy  _ loves _ that blouse. It is the perfect shade of blue and  _ oh god damn Janey is definitely the prettiest person in the universe. _

“Earth to Roxy,” Jane says softly. “You’re welcome to stare at me in this shirt all you like, but you’re also welcome to take it off me.”

“Janey,” Roxy says, her hands already untucking the blouse and coming up to gently undo buttons, “whatever would I do without you?”

“You’d work out a lot less,” Jane tells her, smiling.

Roxy huffs. “Too true,” she says, “but you make it all worth it. You and these arms.” She pauses taking off Jane’s shirt to flex. She knows it’s ridiculous but Jane’s ridiculous too and they’re in  _ love. _

Jane finishes taking off her own shirt while Roxy is flexing. She kisses both of Roxy’s upper arms tenderly, like her lips could bruise them, and kisses her way up her skin to her mouth.

“Your turn,” she breathes, and Roxy can feel the hot air puff across her own lips.

She swears she’s never taken her shirt off that fast before. She’s also thrilled to remember that she hasn't put a bra on under this shirt-- the only layer standing between her and Jane is blissfully gone.

Jane laughs, and grabs Roxy’s shirt before it can hit the floor. She tosses it onto the stool, the clothes beginning to slide precariously with all the new additions.

“We could go somewhere else, if you really want,” Roxy suggests, already leaning back towards Jane as if she’d never stopped.

“Couldn’t hear the oven timer then,” Jane tells her.

Roxy gives her a wild grin. “And you’re sure you’ll be in any state to answer it should it go off?”

Jane pulls their hips flush, matching her grin for grin. “You say that like you’ll be coherent.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“You bet.”

And just like that it’s on. Roxy is the first to move, her hands already dipping down to pull up Jane’s skirt. It’s uniformly knee-length, white and sharply creased. Roxy loves crumpling her skirts like this.

She runs her fingers across Jane’s underwear, hearing the sharp intake of breath and pressing a kiss to Jane’s collarbone. God, she loves doing this, just rubbing across skin - or, in this case, fabric - and feeling all the wonderful ways Janey responds. If she wasn’t trying to beat dinner, she’d take her time, but Jane challenged her. This is war.

As it is, she slips her fingers down into Jane’s underwear and grins at the look Jane gives her, both of her hands grabbing firmly at the kitchen island for support.

“Damn, Jane, wet already,” Roxy murmurs into Jane’s shoulder, smiling at the way her skin flushes.

She strokes two fingertips across her labia, dipping further in only to draw out the dampness and tease her because  _ goddammit her wife is cute. _

“Roxy,” Jane murmurs softly, almost a warning.

“Get up on the island table for me?” Roxy asks, looking up at her with big eyes. “Please?”

It’s ridiculous, using puppy eyes to get Jane up on the table so she can eat her out - but it works, that’s what Roxy loves about Jane. Roxy peels her hands away, and Jane pulls herself up on the table, legs shyly together.

Roxy pulls her face down to kiss her with one hand, and nimbly undoes her bra with the other hand. She’s the frigging bra  _ ninja, _ got this shit mastered one-handed. Jane’s bras are super pretty; this one’s white with blue polka dots and tiny bits of lace. It’s also one Roxy gave to Jane on her birthday last year, wiggling her eyebrows when she opened it.

From her perch on the table, Jane can’t catch the bra before it hits the ground-- she does whine, though, but Roxy isn’t sure if it’s because of the bra or the way she runs her free hand in circles around one of Jane’s nipples.

“Twenty-two minutes,” Jane reads from the kitchen timer, a little out of breath. Roxy looks up and Jane is smirking down at her.

Roxy gives her an ambiguous little smile and gently slides her hands to Jane's hips, then down and across her knees. Her fingertips trail gently up the inside of her thighs, pushing them apart and shoving Jane's skirt up as Roxy leans down, resting her chin on the edge of the table.

Jane gasps a little then, a soft sound in the back of her throat, at the look in Roxy’s eyes.

Roxy’s hands reach their prize, a single finger hooking into either side of Jane’s underwear. She can see from here that it’s polka dotted to match her bra, and already a damp spot is growing on it.

She doesn’t pull her panties down yet, just leans in closer - careful to keep eye contact - and breathes out on Jane, her breath puffing warm. Roxy’s reward is a tiny hitch in Jane’s breathing, and an increase in the scent before her.

In one fluid motion, Roxy secures her grip on Jane’s underwear and slides it down. She’s not looking at Jane anymore, focused purely on the pinkness revealed before her.

“You’re so pretty,” she tells Jane softly, glancing up and smiling.

Any reply Jane tries to make is cut off in a gasp as Roxy leans forward and runs her tongue in a small circle around Jane’s clit, avoiding it carefully.

“Twenty,” Jane manages as Roxy’s tongue pushes its way around each and every fold, teasing.

Roxy presses her mouth against Jane and hums, low in her throat. Jane's hands grip the table so tightly her knuckles go white.

“Love you, Janey,” Roxy murmurs - the affection in her voice is  _ ridiculous, _ just then - and slips her tongue inside.

Jane's soft cry is music to Roxy’s ears as her lips move almost rhythmically around the edge of Jane's entrance, her tongue playing with only the first few centimeters inside, like she knows Janey likes.

Roxy’s very good at losing time like this, her head between Jane’s legs, but today she's hyper aware of every second that ticks by.

With this in mind, she doesn't spend as long eating Jane out as she'd like to;  _ Later, _ she promises herself, and has to be content with that.

When she pulls her face back, licking at her lips and grinning at Jane like a jackal, both of their faces are bright pink. Jane's shivering a little bit, knuckles still clamped down tight on the island’s edge.

“Seventeen,” Jane manages, out of breath.

Roxy leans up to kiss her deeply, tongues and all, and with the motion she slips two fingers into Jane, almost moaning herself at the feeling of warm wetness around her fingertips.

Jane gasps into the kiss and has to lean back for air, openmouthed and panting. Roxy’s fingers press farther in and she kisses at Jane's collarbone, across her shoulders, drawing out a low moan.

“Is that nice, Janey?” Roxy asks her, low, with the “bedroom voice” she knows Jane likes.

“Yes,” Jane pants, “Roxy,  _ please.” _

Roxy knows what she wants.

After so much practice, it's almost easy to find all the spots inside Jane, the ones that make her writhe and moan and shudder in Roxy’s capable hands.

She plays Jane like an instrument, pretty music and silver air between her lips. Roxy wants to steal her breath, steal the pleas for  _ more, please Roxy, don't stop, _ as she adds another finger, starting a slow stretch.

Roxy can tell Jane won't last much longer. Roxy is already wet, too; she can feel it, slippery between her legs where she didn't put underwear on beneath her sweatpants.

Still three fingers in, moving swiftly in tiny rhythmic patterns, Roxy leans down and traces circles around Jane's clit with her tongue.

Jane's legs twitch, a telltale sign. Her hands skitter across the counter, her right coming to rest on Roxy's shoulders while her left returns to the edge.

Roxy smiles up at Jane, whose eyes are nearly closed.

“Love you, Janey,” she says softly, and sucks on Jane's clit, hard.

Jane cries out as she comes, hand clamping down, short nails biting into the skin between the dip in Roxy's shoulders. She shudders and shakes, and Roxy has to gently use her hands to hold her legs apart, where they threaten to close.

When she lifts her head back up to smile at Jane, she makes sure to lick her lips. She  _ knows _ Jane likes to see that, likes to know Roxy enjoys that every bit as much as Jane does.

“You’re going to ruin me,” Jane murmurs, voice soft and breathless. She pulls Roxy up and kisses her again.

“And then what was that, babe?” Roxy teases, leaning in to press her face against Jane’s neck.

“An appetizer,” Jane tells her, and pushes her gently away.

She goes to stand up, seeming to realize once she’s on her feet that she is both jelly-legged and clad in only her skirt-- minus underwear.

“Oh, look at you,” Roxy croons, teasing. “Let me take care of you, Janey, come to bed.”

Jane waggles a finger in Roxy’s face. “I’ll not have you whisking me off, young lady. It’s  _ your _ turn, if you haven’t forgotten.”

Christ, the way she says it is enough to drag any of Roxy’s scheming to a halt. Jane says she enjoys Roxy’s  _ bedroom voice, _ but that is absolutely nothing compared to what Jane can do to Roxy with just a few words.

“Right.” Roxy’s voice is suddenly much thicker, sluggish. “My turn.”

Jane closes the inches of distance between them, until Roxy’s back digs into the counter behind her. Her smile is  _ wicked, _ downright devilish, as she corners Roxy and leans up and kisses her, slow and languid.

When matched up with the fact that Roxy knows Jane can taste herself on Roxy’s lips, the kiss is almost chaste. No tongue, just sweet and soft and Roxy knows Janey well enough to know this is the calm before the storm.

It turns Roxy to jell-o in an instant, melting against Jane like she could never keep herself away. The way Jane supports her with pure force, holding Roxy up with the pressure and heat of her own body is enough to have Roxy’s breath catching in the back of her throat.

Jane doesn’t even bother removing Roxy’s pants, just slides her hand down between Roxy’s bare breasts and over her stomach, vanishing seamlessly beneath the band of her sweatpants.

“So  _ wet,” _ Jane purrs into her ear. “You get off on eating me out, don’t you? You love it.”

Roxy nods, mute, her mouth dry. She can feel Jane’s fingers, tracing patterns on the inside of her thighs-- which normally wouldn’t be this bad, but Roxy is already soaked and she can feel Jane rubbing her fingers against the moisture. She’d squirm but she doesn’t think she can, squashed between Jane’s unrelenting warmth and the counter.

Jane’s fingers draw mesmerizing swirls on her skin, and Roxy holds her breath and prays.

“Twelve,” Jane murmurs, centimeters from Roxy’s lips, and draws two fingers across the swell of Roxy’s slick labia.

It takes Roxy’s brain a moment to catch up, remember Jane’s talking about time. The instant she manages to grab that thought and why it’s significant, Jane slips her fingers inside, presses her thumb just barely against Roxy’s clit, and all coherent thought goes out the window.

“Jane,” Roxy groans, voice soft and broken. “Jesus, girl.”

“Come on, Roxy,” Jane says gently, “it’s only two fingers. You’ve taken so much  _ more, _ haven’t you?”

Roxy moans at that reminder, rocking her hips down to encourage Jane’s fingers to go deeper. She doesn’t, though, just presses her thumb down a little harder and moves with the motion.

The worst part is that the longer Roxy’s been with Jane, the more Jane knows exactly which buttons to push. She’s got Roxy’s verbal kink down to an  _ art, _ velveteen and seducing.

“If only we had time,” Jane murmurs. “You love it when we have time, don’t you? You’d love me to just talk and talk and you could open yourself up on your pretty toys, beg me until I come over and ruin you with them, till you’re shivering and shaking, till you come.”

The worst part is Roxy’s  _ done _ that, they’ve done all that before, so the words bring up so many images that Roxy can almost feel the phantom touch of silicone pressing against her entrance as Jane’s fingers draw out and press back in.

As she slides them back in and widens them, just enough so Roxy starts to feel the stretch, she realizes that already Jane’s up to three fingers. It makes her rock down again, trying to open herself up further-- just like Jane’s words remind her she’s done.

“Janey,” Roxy whines, eyes fluttering like a camera shutter, capturing in her mind the way Jane bites her lips to hide her beautiful smirk.

“So pretty like this, Rox,” Jane tells her softly, bending her head to press a kiss onto Roxy’s collarbone. “So pretty  _ always.” _

And-- and shit, praise is so Roxy’s weakness. Praise and beautifully executed dirty talk, in Janey’s pretty silky-smooth voice.

“Janey, c’mon,” Roxy whines - not begging, she refuses to beg - and pries one of her hands off the counter behind her and drapes it over Jane’s shoulder.

Jane takes this as the sign to finally push Roxy’s sweatpants down to the floor, where they fall cleanly off her legs as Jane hoists her up onto the counter, pushing her legs apart and crowding into the space.

“Look at you, you beautiful woman,” Jane murmurs, smiling up in that soft and gentle way. “You’re so pretty, so  _ obedient, _ I could put you on the stovetop and you wouldn’t care.”

“You’re hotter than the stove,” Roxy says, grinning.

Jane’s retort is to stop moving her fingers, leaving them buried inside Roxy as she curls them just so into that perfect place. Roxy’s grin turns into an open-mouthed panting, and both hands clamp down on Jane’s shoulders, holding her close.

“You've gone all quiet,” Jane teases, just barely brushing her fingers against Roxy's walls. “Come on, love. You've only got seven minutes left.”

Roxy's just barely accustomed herself to the sensation when Jane changes tactics, goes back down to two fingers and pushes them inside and out quickly, making sure to drag them all the way down on the out. It throws Roxy off again, making her perfect-painted-pink nails drag pink lines into Jane's shoulder.

“Oh, look at you,” Jane coos, soft and directly on Roxy's ear. “You're so desperate, Roxy honey. Should I let you come?”

Roxy nods as best she can, her chin thumping against the top of Jane's head. Jane huffs out a laugh.

“You ate me out so nicely,” Jane continues, in her breathy voice, where Roxy can feel every word. “I didn’t even have to ask, you  _ begged _ for it. God, you love begging.”

Roxy keeps nodding, grinding down against Jane’s two fingers-- except suddenly she rocks down and it’s three again, at the same pace, and she shudders a little bit.

“Four,” Jane whispers, rubbing her thumb up against Roxy’s clit with the word. “You’re so close, darling, aren’t you?”

“Please,” Roxy manages.

And then Jane’s giving it to her properly, with a little extra drag to her fingers and a little more pressure on Roxy’s clit. Her mouth closes around the edge of Roxy’s ear, tugging and nipping and sucking.

It’s all too much, then, Jane’s fingers incessantly dragging over the inside of Roxy’s walls, her mouth warm and soft against her too-sensitive ear, her thumb rubbing up against her clit.

Roxy comes with a small whine, digging her fingers into Jane’s back as if to hold her there.

“And three minutes to spare,” Jane’s saying when Roxy finally lets her go. She picks her glasses up, and slides them back on her nose. She moves off into the kitchen, smoothing down her skirt as if she isn’t completely shirtless.

Jane glances over her shoulder, meeting Roxy’s eyes as she sucks off her fingers. She goes to wash her hands afterward anyway, but the image is burned in Roxy’s mind, as Jane no doubt intended.

Roxy sits, entirely naked, on the kitchen counter and dazedly watches Jane pull dinner out of the oven. She loves her.

“I love you, Janey,” she says, because she likes saying it.

“I love you too,” Jane replies, “now move. I need to put this tray where you’re sitting.”

Roxy heaves her butt off the counter, picking her sweatpants up and out of the way as she heads towards the stool they put all their clothes back on. Instead of putting anything back on, she simply begins to fold them and stack them neatly on the edge of the table.

“Naked dinner?” Jane asks.

“Naked dinner,” Roxy agrees.


End file.
